Fake Dying Changes a Few Things
by dalekayla
Summary: Huddy. Takes place after Wilson dies. The first chapter will probably set the tone for the rest of the story.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

He was sitting there, alone on the bench as the cold wind brushed his fingers, wrapped around his cane. The cemetery was empty and the moisture from the fresh pile of dirt in front of him began to freeze as the evening progressed. He began rethink the last few months he had with his best friend, remembering the start of their time together; how he not only risked his life but he also abandoned any future past Wilson's death. Not existing was going to be tougher than he thought. It started with not being able to be at his own friend's funeral, watching from afar as all of his old colleagues paid their respect to yet another doctor from Princeton Plainsboro.

The only missing face from Wilson's ceremony was that of the only person he would even consider seeking comfort in. Cuddy should have been there. She had to know that House was supposedly dead, why wouldn't she be there for Wilson and the others? It seemed inappropriate to be thinking of his ex in front of his most loyal friend's grave, but he had been prepared for Wilson's death. It was time to consider his own future now and he needed a better plan than suicide.

Then he remembered once again that he was dead. He had gotten so accustomed to being dead and without Wilson, he wasn't really sure how he would get around without an identity. The logistical reality of his problem was becoming clear to him. He closed his eyes as he was becoming overwhelmed with his predicament, coming up with solutions, but the solutions seemed infinitely more difficult than suicide did. He remembered all of the reliable connections he had made through the years and how he had destroyed each of those relationships. He couldn't run to anyone for help. His thoughts were hectic and he knew he had to stop or he was going to do something stupid like take the easy way out. Taking a deep breath in, he slowly opened his eyes and soon after, exhaled. He watched the vapor from his breath cascade out from between his lip as a single tear escaped from his moist eyes, rolling down his cold, dry cheek.

The bright winter sun was setting to the left of him and he knew he had to leave. He had to go somewhere… but where would he go? Something in his peripheral vision caught his eye. Another puff of warm breath to his right caught his attention. He figured it must have been someone seeking comfort in the corpse of their dead doctor. He immediately stood up and went around the left side of the bench, walking briskly towards the parking lot, not even glancing at the source of that stray breath.

"What the fuck?" she said from behind him, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. "House?" He glanced down and tightened his grip on his cane. Hearing Cuddy's voice again, he smirked a bit. _Of course. _That smile soon faded as he heard her feet crunching on the dead leaves directly behind him.

He wasn't sure what to expect when he turned around, causing the look of surprise after she immediately slapped him across the face. In retrospect, he should've seen it coming…

"I guess you didn't expect me to be here then…" he said, finally making eye contact with her. Only then did he realize the tears accumulating in her eyes.

"I thought I knew you pretty well, House. But I certainly didn't know that you were capable of resurrection. That's a bit new to me." She didn't know what to think. Cuddy was only ready to mourn Wilson and she was not prepared to run into her dead ex-boyfriend.

Facing Wilson's death was easier for her. She was hurt by it of course, as he was always there for her. House's "death" was difficult for her. On one hand, he drove his car into her home while he was high as a kite. On the other hand, he had spiraled out of control without her since then, which she of course blamed on herself. After a several weeks mourning House, she decided she would have forgiven him for everything if it saved his life. She couldn't bring herself to hate a dead man who had been tolerable for most of his life and absolutely a dick for about two years. But this made things just that much more complicated.

And now she just stared at him in awe.

House couldn't do anything but stare at her.

They stare at each other for a good two minutes, neither uttering a single word as they did what they thought they would never be able to do for the rest of their lives.

House furrowed his brow and broke the beautiful silence.

"I thought I'd never see you again… And I'm glad I did, because I am so sorry for everything I put you through. I don't care if you never want to see me again but I need you to know that."

She continued to stare at him, unchanged.

"Also, sorry for dying."

She scoffed at him, breaking her gaze at him, while he never stopped closely inspecting her face for the slightest emotional response. She couldn't help herself as she slowly walked closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed hard. House looked down at the woman holding him, and reluctant to believe his own eyes, he realized that Lisa Cuddy was hugging him. Raising his eyebrows in surprise at this realization, he tightly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on the top of her head.

The same cold air that surrounded him with the thoughts of his helpless, lonely self just minutes prior was a distant memory as he held in his arms the only woman he ever loved who loved him for who he was. Then he remembered that he ruined that, too. He felt her body shake as she began to slowly breakdown into restrained tears onto his chest. Cuddy thought he wanted nothing to do with him ever since his green card marriage and even more so after he drove into her house. Then of course, he died. Neither of them were sure where they stood in each other's lives.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She stepped back, at a loss for words. After everything that had happened to House and Cuddy, they ended up in the same place. House still wished to be with Cuddy (knowing he had lost the opportunity), Cuddy still didn't know what to think about House and his antics (however big or small they might be) and Wilson watching it all happen as a silent observer, once again taking the role of third wheel. The silence dragged on until it was broken by House as he explained the circumstances of his death. She couldn't get over how irresponsible he was throughout the entirety of his story.

"I don't know if you want this, but maybe we can start over," he said softly, glancing down at his shoes.

Cuddy was clearly anxious. "No. It doesn't work like that. You can't just marry a hooker and drive a car through your ex's house only to fake your death to avoid jail time. After you died, I had to find it in me to forgive the dead version you. I finally reached a point of equilibrium and there is no way I am letting you back in my life so you can just offset it again."

"Ok. It's your choice." House turned his back to her and resumed his walk to the car as if their encounter meant nothing to him.

Cuddy sat down on the bench and stared at the mound of dirt her old friend was under. He would know what to say. Cuddy figured Wilson would tell her to give him another chance, not because he deserved it, but because she needed someone with which she could mourn for their friend. In reality, the only people outside of her family who she could express her true emotions to was House and Wilson. And until today, as far as she was concerned, they were both under six feet of dirt. She realized that her discovery of his well-being allowed her pent up emotions, but she was in no position to open herself up with this man.

House was back at Wilson's apartment, where he and his friend stayed for the last few weeks. It was silent as he devised a way to restore his last real human relationship which was a difficult task since said relationship ended when he ended up in jail. At this point, he knew that the only thing he could do to show her that he was worthy of her attention was to throw himself in front of her feet and apologize to her for everything that happened after the break up. House had discovered Cuddy's new address through the hospital when he was sending out funeral invites. Maybe she would see that he had changed a little bit. After all, he had been through quite a lot since he last saw her. He couldn't do that sober though. The only possible solution: drink away his problems at the bar.

House found himself in a shitty little 90's themed grungy bar, likely because it was the closest bar to Cuddy's new place. His plan was to booze up just enough to get the nerves to confront and beg Cuddy for forgiveness. After a few glasses of Jameson, he found himself staring across the room at a jukebox. He approached it and picked a song at random: "Pepper" by Butthole Surfers. It sounded horrible as he expected of any 90s song, but the chorus was powerful.

"I don't mind the sun sometimes the images it shows.

I can taste you on my lips and smell you in my clothes.

Cinnamon and sugary and softly spoken lies.

You never know just how you look through other people's eyes."

House missed her. But there was more to it than that. He missed her for his own selfish reasons. He never considered exactly how much she hated him. He must be an idiot to think that she would ever accept him with open arms, let alone at all. He had to do more than beg her, he had to gain her trust back and he had no idea how to start or if it was even possible or worth the effort.

"Some will die in hot pursuit in fiery auto crashes.

Some will die in hot pursuit while sifting through my ashes.

Some will fall in love with life and drink it from a fountain

that is pouring like an avalanche comin' down the mountain."

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that this was his only chance at survival. Without anyone to look out for him, he would naturally become a junky idiot. He wouldn't let that happen. He not only needed someone to look out for him, he also needed someone to look out for. He was incomplete on his own, especially now that his and Wilson's symbiotic relationship was gone. He had to seize the day. He had to gain back Cuddy's trust so that he could look after her and she could look after him. Before the song had even ended, House's seat was empty and his empty tumbler sat on top a sizable stack of cash.

House sat in his car parked in her cul de sac for hours contemplating what he would even say to her. It would be terribly uncomfortable for him to just knock on the door only to stare at her in total awe of her mere presence. By the time he had decided to simply wing it, he had sobered up. He walked up to the address and knocked on the door, expecting to be ignored at 1:46 AM. He saw her look to the front door through the blinds. He heard the door open slowly, confused that she would knowingly let him in her home. He caught a glimpse of her face in the dark house for a split second before he was punched directly in the face by a highly intoxicated ex-girlfriend.

"HAHHH!" he looked up as she pointed at him cradling his soon-to-be black eye. "I shoulda done that a while ago."

"You're probably right about that."

She turned away and started walking into her house, leaving the door wide open, so naturally, House let himself in and closed the door behind himself. There was an empty bottle of wine sitting on the kitchen counter and she gripped another bottle that was about half empty. At the rate she was drinking her current bottle, she would be incredibly sick within 20 minutes. So he patiently listened to her bitch about her life at work and all the stress she was under and how Rachel was having behavior issues for the rest of that time. He wondered if she even cared that he was in her house. It was somewhat strange that she recognized him enough to know that she should punch him square in the face, but not enough to know that she should kick him out.

Soon enough, she started to feel dizzy. It was House's opportunity to nurse her back to health through the night. For him, this opportunity was a perfect way to gain her trust back.


End file.
